The Drawer Labeled Misc
by yashkonu
Summary: A collection of mini-fics and other assorted bits and pieces from my tumblr.
1. Chapter 1

**Prompt: Yang and Nora can't stop trying to one-up each other.**

Weiss sighed, and Pyrrha mirrored her. This whole ordeal was her own fault, really, since she _had_ been the one to muse aloud that Nora was the only person at Beacon with an appetite more voracious than Yang's. She should have known her girlfriend would take it as a challenge, and that Nora would egg her on until, well, _this_ happened.

It had started with a pancake eating contest, officiated by Blake and Ren, who were as close to impartial as anyone on their teams could be. When Yang won that (by half a pancake), things had begun to escalate. A best-of-seven set of sparring matches (Nora won, 4-3), a race to the Emerald Forest and back (they had both managed to get horribly lost until Ruby had gone looking for them. It was deemed a draw), and a girlfriend bench-pressing contest (Also deemed a draw, on the grounds that Pyrrha weighed something like double what Weiss did) hadn't been too bad, but then that wily faunus just _had_ to get involved.

As Yang and Nora had agonized over what else they could compete on, the most devious smile Weiss had ever seen had crept onto Blake's face. They had closed their book – which, given what book it was, should have been a dead giveaway for what was to follow – and suggested that the pair settle the matter in bed.

Before Weiss and Pyrrha could recover enough to muster an indignant shriek, they had outlined the terms. Yang and Weiss would have team RWBY's room to themselves for the night, and Nora and Pyrrha would have JNPR's. The remainder of the teams would stay the night with team CFVY, and in the morning Weiss and Pyrrha would be called on to pass judgement. Weiss's indignation had faltered just enough for her to allow herself to be roped into it. She could easily have said no, but Yang could be _very_ determined when her competitive side was roused, and Weiss's curiosity got the better of her.

And now she could hardly walk. Next to her, Pyrrha's knees were still shaking a bit. Worth it.

"So?" Yang asked impatiently, "Who won?"

Weiss gave Pyrrha a long-suffering look, and received a shrug in return.

"Yang, you _do_ realize we can't actually answer that, right? There's no way for us to compare something like this without-"

"Oh! So tonight we should swap and _then_ you'll be able to-"

" _No, Nora."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Prompt: 'i'm in my underpants in a laundromat waiting for my clothes to get washed and your clothes are in the machine next to mine and i noticed that when you put your clothes in they were all covered in blood what the fuck' au**

It was most definitely not Velvet's day. Night. Morning? A glance at the cracked screen of her phone confirmed that yes, morning was the right word. It was nearly four and here she was, nearly naked in an empty laundromat, watching her favorite outfit tumble along in the wash.

Her long ears drooped at the thought of how pathetic she must look, and she winced as the movement aggravated the gash which scored the back of one. She just needed to get the mud out of her clothes and get back to her apartment without running into any more faunus-hating punks. If she could manage that, she'd be fine. Eventually.

She couldn't stand going to the laundromat. The whole process was just so… public. Once she saved up enough, maybe got a raise or two, she could get out of her crummy two-room apartment on the wrong side of town and stop having to come here. She hated the waiting, the feeling of being scrutinized, the way the place always smelled just a bit like mildew and blood–

Wait.

Blood?

Another washer, two down from hers, clicked open and Velvet jumped with a startled 'meep' she couldn't quite suppress. A slender, muscular, feline faunus was peeling away layers of clothing soiled with dirt and blood, tossing them into the washer unceremoniously. Velvet willed her eyes away from their sleek, toned figure – she had never seen quite so many corded muscles on one back before – and fixed her eyes on her hands, folded tightly in her lap.

How had she not heard them arrive? There was a bell on the door and everything, not to mention her ears should have clearly picked up the faunus's footsteps. A thought struck her, and her eyes flitted up to trace the newcomer's form as surreptitiously as possible.

"It's not mine, if that's what you're wondering." She jumped again at the husky voice, and looked up nervously to meet a sidelong gaze from glowing amber eyes.

"Ah! I, uh, I'm sorry, I… didn't mean to stare, I just-"

"It's fine."

Silence settled again. After a few minutes of fidgeting in embarrassment, Velvet risked another glance over to the other faunus. They were _watching her_. Rather intently, at that.

"Is your ear okay? That cut looks pretty nasty."

"I-it's fine, really. I just… ran into the wrong crowd. You know how it is."

"Wait… when you say wrong crowd, do you mean those punks who were hanging around that alley by Junior's?"

"I… yeah, actually. How did you…?" The faunus nodded at their clothes, tossing in the washer, then flashed a smile that was just predatory enough to make Velvet squirm.

"They won't be bothering you anymore. I'm Blake, by the way."

Velvet found herself wondering if there was a word for feeling afraid and aroused at the same time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Prompt: 'last night was a haze for both of us and somehow we woke up hungover in a bed that isn't either of ours and also neither of us recognize this apartment we should probably get out of here before someone calls the cops on us' au**

Blake was awoken by a thin beam of sunlight, falling through the blinds to pierce her head like a lance. She groaned at the pounding in her sensitive ears and attempted to pull the blankets up over her head. They barely budged, though the movement was enough to dislodge several empty bottles that had been strewn across her.

Looking to her left, Blake discovered the reason why. She was not, in fact, alone in the bed. A slender girl with black hair highlighted by red was curled against her side, and drooling gently onto her shirt. The mystery girl's brow creased at Blake's shifting, and she let out a long, pathetic groan.

"Mmfgnhead." She mumbled, and Blake nodded in sympathy. After a moment's groggy thought, the girl whipped her head up to look at Blake with a startled _bwuh?!_

"Hey." Blake's mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. "I'm Blake, in case you can't remember my name either."

"MmRuby. Nicet'meeyou, Blage."

"Nice to meet you too, Ruby." Blake sat up gingerly, looking about the room while she massaged her aching temples. Then she noticed the _other_ girl in bed with them.

"Holy shit."

Ruby rolled with another groan to follow Blake's gaze, then gasped.

"Blake, is that _Weiss Schnee?"_

"That is absolutely Weiss fucking Schnee. We absolutely probably had some kind of sex with Weiss fucking Schnee."

"And I _can't remember it?_ How is that fair?!"

"Fate plays cruel games with us all." Blake shifted to slide out of the bed as silently as possible. "I don't feel like talking to any lawyers, though, so I think I'm going to clean up and get out of here before she wakes up. Do you mind if I use your bathroom, Ruby?"

" _My_ bathroom? I thought this was _your_ place."

Blake froze. This did not look like a Weiss fucking Schnee kind of apartment. It definitely wasn't her own – for one thing, it was nicer than hers – and if it wasn't Ruby's…

"Ruby? Whose apartment is this?"

"I… don't know?"

Perfect. As if the debilitating hangover wasn't bad enough, she had apparently also boned a perfect stranger and the heiress to a multi-billion dollar dust mining and refinement corporation – in someone else's apartment.

"Okay Ruby, I would _really_ like to not go to jail, so we should probably get out of here ASAP. Can you…" She couldn't believe she was even saying this. "Can you try to wake her up?"

" _Wake her up?!_ She'd _kill_ me! Or sue me! I don't know which is worse!"

"I know, but we can't just leave her drunk and unconscious in a stranger's house, can we?"

Ruby looked conflicted, but in the end her conscience won out. "Fine, fine."

Blake ducked into the bathroom, splashed some cold water on her face, checked herself over in the mirror, and headed back into the bedroom.

"So…" Ruby looked worried. "She's not waking up."

 _"What?!"_

"Don't get mad at _me!_ When I tried to wake her up she just bit my hand and rolled over!"

And that was how Blake found herself lugging a dozing heiress around an apartment building she'd never seen before in her life, while Ruby checked ahead to make sure the coast was clear. Not, perhaps, her most dignified morning, but at least she was in good company. She'd have to remember to get Ruby's number, once they figured out what to do with an unconscious girl worth more than they'd make in ten lifetimes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Prompt: Ruby realizes Penny is a weapon she can date.**

It's a big sister thing, probably. When you live with someone under your wing long enough, all their little quirks and mannerisms become a language of their own, understood only by a select few. A murmur can speak a paragraph, a look can tell a story, a shifted center of balance can fill a hundred blanks and connect a thousand dots. It reminded Yang of those paintings made up of an ocean of little points of paint. Most people would only ever see a few dots, and naturally had no idea that there was a greater meaning to their arrangement. _She_ had been around long enough to know them all by heart, so well that the sight of just a few could tell her exactly what part of the painting she was looking at.

So when Ruby gets _that one look_ in her eye, and when she chews her lip _just like that_ , Yang knows without a doubt that something's up. Something kinda weird, actually, because _that look_ is the look she gets when she has Crescent Rose reduced to gleaming viscera before her, and a hundred tools Yang could never hope to name strewn across the floor, and the last time she chewed her lip _just like that_ was right before Yang caught her with one of Blake's books. Yes, _those_ books. Yang never planned to let her live it down.

It was a puzzle, even to the heightened perception of a veteran big sis. Somehow, Ruby was caught between her itch to tinker and dissect, her deep admiration for all things finely-tuned and death-dealing, and some pretty intense horny. That was a hell of a combo, even for Ruby. Maybe she was revisiting one of her scrapped plans for a more _sensitive_ Crescent Rose? Something in her gut told her there was more to it than that, though, and it was her sworn sororal duty to find out what.

She let the textbook she had been half-reading drop onto the bed next to her and rose, working a few deep, satisfying pops out of her spine as she did so. She sauntered across the room, taking note of Weiss and Blake's conspicuous absence. Knowing those two, they were probably off at the library, "studying." Studying, her ass. Well, Blake's ass, more likely. Weiss had predictable tastes. Yang dropped her weight onto the edge of Ruby's bunk, hard enough to jostle her diminutive sister.

"So."

"Uh… So…?" Ruby looked sheepish.

"So, what's eatin' you, sis? And don't even _think_ about saying 'nothing,' you know I know you better than that."

"It's…" Ruby glanced around the room, making absolutely sure they were alone. "You can't tell _anyone_ about this, okay? Not even Pyrrha. Promise?"

Yang rolled her eyes, but acquiesced anyway. "Of course, Rubes. If it's that important, these lips are sealed. Now what's got you so worked up?"

"It's… you remember that girl we ran into a couple times during all that stuff with the White Fang last year?"

Yang took a moment to think. Honestly, they had met quite a few girls during all that business. There was the cute one with the green hair and the crop-top, the unsettlingly hot one with the kinda glowy eyes, the _really_ cute one who had nearly put a sword through Yang's ribs… _Ah._ She had forgotten one, hadn't she? There was that tiny girl Ruby had run off with; the one with the surprising number of swords hidden in her chest cavity and the whole 'able-to-shoot-lasers' thing. A knowing look crept onto Yang's face.

"Redhead? Kinda short? Green eyes, green lasers?"

Ruby was steadily turning as red as her namesake. "Y-yes? Her name's Penny." Ruby fiddled with her sleeve as she spoke.

 _Oh man,_ Yang thought, _if she's doing the sleeve thing she's got it BAD._

"Alright sis, spill. What's up with you and robo-girl 3000?"

" _Yang!_ She has a name, okay? Just because she's a robot doesn't mean she isn't a person, too!"

"Woah, slow down there sis." Yang held her hands up defensively at the outburst. "Now, I had thought that 'robot' and 'person' were pretty much mutually exclusive, so you're gonna have to run that by me in a bit more detail, okay?"

Ruby huffed. "I did some digging after we met her. She's not just some robot with a complex set of instructions driving it, like the Knights and Paladins. She's a _fully_ learning AI."

Yang looked nonplussed. "O...kay, I'm gonna guess by the emphasis on 'fully learning' that that's a big deal, but for those of us less involved in the whole," she waved her hands vaguely, " _science_ , thing, maybe you could explain?"

Ruby shifted into her 'talking about weaponry' tone of voice, somewhere between instructive and excited. "That means she's capable of learning and adapting to new experiences in the same way humans and faunus do, Yang. It means that as far as mental stuff goes, she's just as alive as anyone else. _Plus_ , she has an aura, which I didn't even think was possible! She has a _soul_." That hungry look from earlier was back in full force.

Yang pondered her sister's words for a moment. "Alright, let me see if I've got this straight. She's a robot, but she's also alive, and you're nursing a hopeless crush on her."

" _Yang!"_

"Oh, come on Rubes. If I couldn't figure _that_ much out from this conversation I wouldn't be much of a big sis, would I?" Yang smirked, and Ruby gave a sheepish grin in return.

"Yeah, alright, I'm crushing hard on a robot girl. Is that weird?"

"Weirder than the heiress to an internationally faunus-hating dust corporation making out with an ex-Fang faunus girl in the private study rooms? Probably not."

"Is _that_ why they're always studying together?"

Yang ruffled her sister's hair with a laugh. "Nothing gets past you, eh fearless leader? Anyway, if you're so interested in Penny, why don't you ask her out? If she's a 'fully learning AI' or whatever, she should be able to figure out how dating works just fine."

"Well, _yeah_ , but... I mean, she's technically property of the Atlas military, and I don't think they're gonna be too interested in letting her go on... y'know, dates..." She trailed off at the last word, as though saying it out loud might make her fragile hopes too real.

Yang cocked her head, her wild mane shifting with the movement. "Now, stop me if I'm wrong here, but isn't that kinda debatable?" at Ruby's steadily rising eyebrow, she continued. "I mean, she's just as intelligent as any human or faunus, and she's got some kind of soul, right? In my book, that makes her a person, and I don't think you can really _own_ a person. Even if you built them."

Something bright and sharp lit up in Ruby's silver eyes, like the polished edge of a blade. "You really think so?"

Yang clapped a hand to her sister's back. "I _absolutely_ think so, Rubes." Ruby stood suddenly, and headed for the door. "Rubes? Where are you off to?"

She answered over her shoulder with a grin that belied a hundred plans in the making. "I'm gonna go have a chat with Weiss about a lawyer and an ethics lawsuit. And _then_ I think I'm gonna ask a cute weapon if she wants to get lunch."


	5. Weiss Has the Gay Dream

**Prompt:** **Weiss having a dream about pampering Yang and being a good girlfriend** ** **when she thinks she's straight and assumes the same about Yang.****

Weiss couldn't quite suppress a smile and a chiming little laugh when the oven timer dinged; she had timed it all out perfectly. She carefully removed her lovingly prepared quiche from the oven and set it atop the stove. A glance at the clock confirmed that it would have just enough time to cool before her darling's return.

"Hey, sweet cheeks," a husky voice called from somewhere behind her, "something smells _wonderful_." The last word was a throaty purr, and the sound, so close to her ears, sent a shiver down her spine.

"Welcome home, love," she gasped back as a warm weight pressed her firmly against the bathroom counter.

 _Bathroom? Wasn't I-_

Powerful bronze arms wrapped around her slender frame, and she shivered again at the press of warm lips against her nape and the cascade of wild blonde over her shoulders.

"Y-You..." Weiss cleared her throat, hoping to banish the tremor from her voice. "You're _covered_ in sweat. Did you skip showering after your workout again?"

Fingers trailed lazily along her bare thigh. "Mmm... you're the one making dinner in your underwear. The 'kiss the cook' apron was a nice touch, though."

Weiss half-barked a nervous laugh. " _You_ need to shower before you're kissing anyone. I'll go get you something to change into." Those muscular arms withdrew with a grumbled affirmative, and Weiss beat a hasty retreat. If she played along with every urge and temptation that girl put in her head, they'd never get anything done.

She crossed the empty main hall of Schnee manor, her bare feet slapping against the cool marble, and entered team RWBY's dorm.

 _Wait, that's not-_

Her lover's clothes were always in the top drawer, a mass of gold and tan and black kept orderly only by Weiss's dedicated efforts. She picked out a loose pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt and made her way back to the bathroom.

Just as she set the clothes in a neat pile on the counter, those devilishly toned arms found their way around her once again, this time slick with warm water. She was lifted - without apparent effort - into the cascade of steaming water. She shrieked and opened her mouth to protest, only to have her breath stolen by soft lips, meeting her own with unbridled hunger. Her hands rose to trace the rigid curves and creases along her lover's shoulders, and calloused fingers in turn found purchase on her hips. Then those weathered hands moved to _just the right place_ and she broke the kiss with a gasp.

 _"Yang-"_

* * *

Weiss jolted awake.

 _Okay brain, what the_ hell _was that?_

"So." Across the room, Blake was lounging with a book, eyeing her with unconcealed amusement. "Want to talk about it?"

Oh, dust. "T-talk about what?"

"Well, I was thinking we could start with why you were gasping my partner's name in your sleep and work from there." Blake had the most _infuriating_ smirk.

"W-was I? I… don't remember what I was dreaming about," she mumbled, a bit too hastily, "It could have been anything, I suppose."

"Oh really?" Blake snapped her book shut and crossed the room to sit beside her. "Then my next question is why you're beet-red right now." A few stammered attempts at excuses did nothing to dissuade Blake's knowing grin. "Weiss, did you have… the Gay Dream?"

 _"What?!"_ Weiss mustered all of her failing indignation for what she hoped was a convincing shriek.

"Nope, you're not fooling anyone like that. You _totally_ just had the Gay Dream."

"What do you mean, and why does it sound like you're capitalizing that? I'll have you know that I am _entirely_ heterosexual, thank you _very_ much."

Weiss was not entirely fond of the sidelong look Blake was giving her. "Uh- _huh_. Y'know, Ruby said pretty much the same thing, and look how _that_ turned out." Weiss spared a glance to where Ruby was still napping in Blake's bunk. She knew full well how that had turned out. "Anyway, when I say 'the Gay Dream,' I just mean a particularly _vivid_ dream about you and Yang."

"I…" bracing herself, Weiss made the decision to confide in her teammate. It wasn't like there was anyone _else_ on her team who could be trusted to keep a secret. "...yeah, it was pretty… vivid." She suppressed a shiver. Those deltoids had been particularly detailed. She had to wonder how her subconscious had memorized them with that kind of clarity.

"Want to tell me about it? Yang won't be back for a while yet, and talking it over might help you work things out in your head." For all her mirth, there was an earnest note to Blake's voice.

Weiss nodded, swallowing hard. How did people just _talk_ about this kind of thing? "It… I was making dinner, I think, and Yang got home from the gym, " Blake was doing her utmost to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching upwards. "And she kinda… pinned me to the counter, and…" She trailed off. A frustrating warmth was building in the pit of her stomach.

"...And?" Blake's ears were twitching.

"A-and I made her take a shower, and went to get her a change of clothes." Weiss blinked. "They were all folded." They both turned to look at the team's shared dresser, and the rumpled mass of clothes spilling from the top drawer.

"Oh, Weiss. You have got it _bad,"_ Blake chuckled around a sympathetic grin, "So, after you retrieved these neatly folded clothes?"

"She was in the shower, and she picked me up, and we… ah…" Weiss squirmed.

"... I think I can guess without the play-by-play. So? Where does that leave you?"

"I… I don't _know!_ How am I supposed to feel about having sudden domestic fantasies about a teammate? Besides, even if I am interested in her, she's probably not interested in… girls… what is that look for?"

"Weiss, Yang is gay as the day is long. How in the world did you miss that?"

Weiss flushed, but before she could muster a reply the door to the room clicked open and Yang, glistening with perspiration and clad only in a sports bra and shorts that were _entirely_ too tight, strode into the room.

 _Ah,_ Weiss thought, _so_ this _is how I die._

"Hey girls, what's up?" A concerned look came to Yang's face. "Weiss, are you alright? You look kinda flushed." She strode over to Weiss, bending down to inspect her face more closely. Weiss, for her part, tried valiantly to keep her eyes from straying south. "You're really red, Weiss. You don't have a fever, do you?"

 _Remember me when I'm gone, everyone. It's been good knowing you all._

Then Yang pressed her lips against Weiss's forehead.

"Yeah, you're _really_ war- Weiss?! Are you okay? Blake, _what_ is so funny?"


	6. It's Okay to be Broken

**Prompt: "Ruby contracts lycanthropy and Penny and she can have kinky werewolf sex without worrying about it spreading because Penny is a gynoid"**

Ruby eyed the rising moon warily and huffed a sigh, turning back to face her computer screen. "Are you _sure_?"

Amid an ocean of progress bars and rapidly scrolling output logs, text began to appear in your specially prepared window. _That is the seventeenth time you've asked that, Ruby._

Ruby scowled. "I _know_ it's – well I didn't know it was exactly 17 times but – it's just not _safe_ , okay?"

She stared down the idly blinking cursor for a moment before your words began to form once more. _You're a werewolf, love. "Safe" is relative here. It's safer than anything else, and I've already done all thi_

The text cut out as the last progress bar hit 100%. Behind her, you sat up suddenly, rubbed at your eyes, and began to disconnect the glowing cables and wires that snaked along the floor and into your body.

"It's _still_ weird seeing both of your bodies in the same room," Ruby remarked with a glance at the powered-down combat chassis.

You chuckled, working your jaw a bit to get used to the feeling. " _You_ think it's weird? Still, I'd rather deal with the weirdness than not be able to do this." Your combat chassis was perfectly suited for just that – combat. When it came to more… sensitive matters, the cold alloys and rigid plastics were of little use. Besides, it was missing some fairly important components. When you had begun dating in earnest, Ruby spent the better part of six months designing, prototyping, and eventually constructing a body better equipped for intimacy. You preferred it to its more deadly counterpart, when given the choice.

Ruby rubbed her arm anxiously. The moonlight was starting to affect her. "Yeah, about… 'this.' I know I keep asking the same thing, but I'm worried, y'know? After last time…"

You stepped close and pressed a finger to her lips. "I _loved_ last time. I know how you get when you're transformed, and this is the best way we can handle it. Remember what happened with Weiss?"

How could she _forget_? Weiss was certainly in no hurry to let her live it down. It was fun watching the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company try to make excuses for her conspicuous absence every full moon, though. "Yeah, I remember. It's just…" Her gaze dropped to the floor. Try as she might, the words just wouldn't come.

You pressed a warm synthetic hand to her cheek, tilting her head gently until your eyes met, pulling her close enough for your foreheads to touch. "I trust you, Ruby."

"I'll hurt you."

"You can't hurt me."

"Then I'll break you."

"Then you'll just have to put my pieces back together."

You felt her shiver, then nod against your skin.

* * *

She's heat and friction, warm wet friction that shoots lightning bolts of pleasure through veins you don't have, makes you gasp for air you don't need as she grinds against your face.

She's flesh and breath, steaming hot enough to fog your eyes as they lock to her own. She growls and pushes deeper and the world goes white and you're trembling and you can't stop. You hope she never stops, either. Her grip tightens on your legs and something cracks inside them. You hope she never, ever stops.

She's fur and teeth and claws, tearing into flesh her hands created. You watch her do it, watch the muscles and tendons flex and strain beneath her skin as they expose what's under yours. You tell her you love her; she can't talk but her eyes say _I love you too_.

When it's over and you both can barely move she lies beside you, holds you close and whispers affection and apology. You tell her it's okay to be broken, because you have someone who'll fix you.


	7. Set a Thief

Blake's hands twitched, so she crammed them in her pockets. She had been standing in a deep shadow in the corner of this damned jeweler for hours, and watching the assembled finery twinkle at her with every passing car was getting to be unbearable.

Fucking police work. She almost wished she'd just taken the life sentence. How hard could breaking out of prison be? But no, she had taken the easy way out and accepted the offer to "pay her debt to society" by helping the cops. She rubbed at the tracker anklet with the toe of her shoe. It itched. They'd even given her a badge, the condescending pricks.

She got the whole "set a thief" thing they were going for in recruiting her, and they were probably right to do so - it wasn't like any of _them_ were going to stand a chance - but as she had insisted on many occasions, Sustrai was just plain out of her league. The woman was a _ghost_. The only reason anyone even knew the name was because she had written it in glossy green lipstick in the place of a stolen painting. The memory brought a grin to Blake's lips. She could respect a thief with a flair for the dramatic.

Months on the case and she hardly felt like she was getting any closer to her target; she had yet to catch even a glimpse of her. What she _had_ managed to do was figure out her pattern, to an extent. With a map of Vale and enough pins and thread, Blake had managed to find the path the master thief was taking. Problem was, even knowing the path left her with more than a few possible targets for each hit. She couldn't be everywhere, and she didn't dare ask the police to stake out the other locations, for fear that Sustrai would catch on and change her pattern. She would just have to keep trying, and hope she got it right. If she did… well, Blake hadn't really planned that far.

Her ears twitched at the subtle rasping of a lock being picked.

 _Holy shit, I actually did it._

She crouched and went stock-still in the shadows, willing her breath as slow and silent as possible. A lithe, dark-skinned woman crept in from the shop's back entrance, silent as passing moonlight even to faunus ears. Were it not for Blake's night vision, Sustrai would have been a shadow among shadows, invisible.

For fifteen agonizing minutes Sustrai just stood, motionless, listening intently. Ensuring she was alone, Blake assumed. She knew the thief wouldn't hear her - if she couldn't hear herself, no human stood a chance - but the thrill of being so close to her quarry drove her heart to pound so hard she feared it would give her away.

When Sustrai finally moved, flowing across the shop like dark water to begin emptying the safe behind the counter, Blake followed. She slipped a compact stun-gun from her pocket as she approached, forcing her hands steady and ignoring the thrumming in her chest until she was close enough to-

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

She froze. Sustrai hadn't even stopped her work cracking the safe; hadn't acknowledged her presence in any way other than the words.

"Took long enough for you to catch on, yeah? I was starting to wonder if you'd given up on finding me." The safe door clicked, and as it swung open Sustrai turned to grin toothily at her would-be captor, mischief shining in her eyes.

Blake's mouth was suddenly dry, for some reason. She gathered her wits, took stock of the situation, and spoke with purpose and authority. "Huh?"

The thief just chuckled and leaned over the open safe door to smirk at her. "Brought you a present." Seemingly from thin air, she produced a complex electronic key.

"... Is that the key to my tracker? How in the _hell_ -"

"Oh, but that would be telling." There was a pout to her voice that turned playful as she continued. "So, my little cat burglar, do you plan to sit around this dump all night, or are we gonna go have some fun? Unless you'd rather run back to the boys in blue empty-handed again, that is." She dangled Blake's stun-gun in front of her face. When had she…?

After a bit more confused stammering, Blake's brain finally managed to catch up to events, and she grinned. "I like the way you think, Sustrai."

"I like that you've finally decided to. And by _all_ means," she shoved the contents of the safe into a small pack as she spoke, "call me Emerald."

When the police arrived the next morning the store was barren, save for an abandoned tracker anklet set tastefully on an otherwise empty display rack. Behind it, writ large on the wall in glossy black lipstick, was the name _Belladonna_.


End file.
